Bookworms and Leather Jackets
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Collection of SiriusHermione meet cute scenarios.:: Currently: A mysterious man with danger in his eyes places the winning bid for Hermione at a charity date auction.
1. Going Once, Going Twice

_Written for the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Roald Dahl Event (tasting room: Write about someone doing something out of their comfort zone)_

 _Granger Danger Event (SiriusHermione, meet cute scenario: You bought me at a charity auction, and you're probably a serial killer)_

 _Word Count: 1412_

* * *

 _This collection will be a series of unrelated meet cute scenarios, all in a non-magical setting._

* * *

"I really don't know about this," Hermione says, running her fingers over the plunging neckline of the form-fitting lilac dress. "It's a bit…" She clears her throat, pointedly trying to keep her gaze away from the mirror.

Ginny nods her agreement, securing Hermione's hair with a bobby pin. "I know. Just remember, it's to raise money for St. Mungo's," she says.

Hermione turns to her best friend. Ginny smooths out the black cocktail dress that clings to her slender frame. At least Hermione is in good company as she's forced out of her comfort zone. Ginny is at her side, and that's all that should matter.

"What do you think?"

Hermione hesitantly shifts her gaze to the mirror. She swallows dryly, shaking her head. While there's no denying that Ginny has worked wonders and that she's beautiful, she struggles to comprehend that the woman staring back at her is really herself.

Ginny gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "Come on. We'd better get going."

…

"And next up," Rita Skeeter says, barely able to hide the disgusted curl of her lips, "is Miss Hermione Granger."

Hermione steps onto the stage. She finds Ginny in the crowd, holding her gaze. It's the only comfort she has as she's made into the center of attention.

"We'll start the bidding a bit low," Rita says nastily, and Hermione clenches her jaw to keep from storming over there and giving the horrendous journalist a piece of her mind. "Shall we say… twenty?"

Her cheeks grow hot. Exposing Rita a hack with fictitious sources seems to have come back to bite Hermione in the ass. Still, she forces herself to hold her head high and deal with it.

"One hundred," a voice calls.

Hermione's eyes narrow as she tries to find the speaker.

Rita clears her throat. "Right… Well, that's one hundred. One-ten?"

"One-ten," a second voice says.

"Three hundred!" the first man counters.

"Quite, uh, quite an interesting turn of events," Rita says, and Hermione can't help but grin at her clear discomfort; maybe the evening isn't going to be so bad after all. "That's- ahem- three hundred. Anyone else?"

The satisfaction over Rita's discomfort quickly fades as a new realization hits. She doesn't know this man who continues to bid more and more for an evening with her. He could be anyone. Forcing herself to smile, she keeps her eyes locked on Ginny.

"Three hundred. Going once, going twice…. Sold to the gentleman in the leather."

That catches her attention only seconds before the sudden movement in the crowd. Hermione feels that sense of doom wash over her. The man is handsome enough, but in such a dangerous way. His grey eyes shimmer with mischief, a smirk on his lips. The leather jacket stands out dramatically among suits and ties the other men wear. His dark hair has been pulled into a messy bun, and slight stubble shadows his face.

Hermione has always tried her hardest not to judge people too quickly, but this man causes her heartbeat to quicken. Every nerve in her body screams _danger, danger!_

He approaches the stage, offering Rita a check. Seconds later, he appears before Hermione, extending his hand to her. She's painfully aware that all eyes are on her. Hesitantly, she accepts his hand, climbing off the stage.

"Sirius Black," he says, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Black?" Hermione echoes. "As in-"

"Yep. Those Blacks," he says dryly, and Hermione guesses it's a sore subject. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Hermione hesitates. Everything about this man seems dangerous. Her instincts tell her that she needs to stay here. And yet there's something hypnotic about his storm cloud eyes. Something about him makes her want to throw caution to the wind. "I… Sure," she says, a slight tremor in her voice.

He flashes her a bright grin and leads her through the crowd. Ginny smiles at her as she passes, offering her a quick thumbs up. Hermione swallows dryly, nodding.

…

"A… A motorbike?" she asks, examining the sleek black frame with a mixture of nervousness and awe.

"I like to live dangerously," Sirius explains, handing her a helmet before placing his on his head. "That, and my mother hates it. All the more reason. Hop on."

"You aren't going to murder me, are you?"

The moment the question leaves her lips, she feels silly. What sort of person asks that outright? Then again, what sort of man bids on a stranger and immediately takes her out? She has plenty of reasons to be wary.

Sirius snorts, mounting the bike. He glances at her, flashing another mesmerizing grin. "Call me old fashioned, but murder doesn't sound like a romantic evening."

Hermione nods, sliding onto the seat behind him. She rests her hands awkwardly in her lap, unsure what to do with them. That last time she's been on any sort of bike, she was a child, and it had training wheels.

"Hold on," he says, pushing up the kickstand and starting the bike. It roars to life with a jolt.

"To what?" she asks, but her question is drowned out by the sudden purr of the engine. Without even a second to think, she wraps her arms around him as the wind caresses her skin and the city light pass by in orange blurs.

…

When they come to a stop, Sirius is the first off. He offers Hermione his hand, and she accepts it, still a bit disoriented from the ride. "First time on a bike?" he asks, his tone gentle, almost teasing.

"Is it that obvious?" she asks, adjusting her dress which has ridden up slightly.

"Just a bit," he laughs.

Hermione looks around. At first, she sees nothing but trees. That flicker of panic returns. She tenses, frowning. "Where are we?" she asks quietly.

"This is where I like to come to think," he says. "My parents never go anywhere that isn't stylish, so this is a safe spot."

She nods but stays on edge. Sirius starts forward, and Hermione follows. In the back of her mind, she can see her face on the evening news.

 _Hermione Jean Granger, twenty years old. Last seen leaving the St. Mungo's Charity Date Auction. Her parents are working closely with police on the investigation. If anyone has any information, please contact…_

They come to a stop a lake. A small smile plays at her lips. Despite her fear, she can't help but to stop and admire the way the moonlight dances across the gentle ripples on the water.

"Do you bring all your dates out here?" she asks.

"Not all rich bachelors are playboys," he points out. "I don't date, and I never bring _anyone_ out here."

 _I don't date._ Hermione feels a strange flutter in her stomach. "Why me?" she whispers. "Why even bid on me?"

"Your eyes," he answers.

"My… eyes?"

Sirius nods. For several seconds, he doesn't speak. His eyes remain fixed upon the water. He sighs, sitting on the edge and pulling off his shoes and socks before sipping his bare feet into the lake. "You can tell a lot about a person by looking into their eyes," he explains. "Yours made me want to know more."

"What do my eyes tell you?"

"You have clever eyes," the man chuckles. "You're wise beyond your years. Of course I wanted you."

She takes off her heels, setting them aside. Sirius lays his jacket out next to him, patting it. Hermione sits down, following his example and plunging her feet into the water, yelping as she realizes how cold it is.

"We could always go for a swim," he says.

"Or I could avoid ruining this dress," she suggests.

Sirius rests his hand on hers. She leans in, resting her head on his shoulder. "I can see why you like it here," she tells him. "It's peaceful."

"I like laying back and counting the stars."

"That's impossible." Hermione rolls her eyes at the thought.

"Yeah, well, I'm impossible."

She believes it. This evening has only just begun, but it's already been such a rollercoaster. A soft smile on her lips, she lifts her head to the sky, watching the star twinkle. Part of her wants to try and count them, regardless of how impossible it maybe be.

"Still think I'm a murderer?" he asks, his fingers gently ghosting over her arm.

"Not anymore."

"So, can I have a second date?"

"I'd like that."


	2. Halloween Wonderland

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "Your Obedient Servant" (honor)_

 _Granger Danger: meet cute scenario- We're at the same Halloween party, wearing matching costumes and everyone thinks we're a couple_

 _Word Count: 657_

* * *

Sirius adjusts his hat, silently praying that it doesn't throw off the wig. He's spent weeks putting together his Mad Hatter costume. The last thing he needs is for his hair to poke out and clash with the synthetic material.

Marlene opens the door, dressed as a panda. When she sees him, a bright smile breaks out across her face. "How cute! You and your girlfriend did a couples' costume!" she squeals. "Kind of hate you for not telling me you found someone."

Sirius raises his brows, studying her for a moment, trying to make sense of her words. He has been incredibly single since New Years. All he can do is assume that Marlene has had a little too much wine already. "Good to see you too, Mar," he laughs, moving past her.

He holds back before diving right into the party. Marlene has really outdone herself with the decorations. Realistic cobwebs hang from the ceiling; large, nasty spiders cling ominously from them, red eyes glowing. Somewhere, there's a dry ice machine since a layer of what looks like fog drifts over the floor.

"Why didn't you and your girlfriend come together?" Frank asks, offering him a beer.

"My what?" For the life of him, Sirius does not understand why everyone seems to think he has a girlfriend.

"Alice."

Sirius had been in the process of taking a swig of beer when Frank answered. He sputters, sending a thin spray of beer into the air. "Your wife?"

Frank laughs, shaking his head. His chef's hat slides, but he quickly catches it. "Classic," he says. "You've always been a funny bloke. _Alice._ You know… Alice from the book."

"We're not-"

"She's a bit younger than I would imagine," Frank adds. "But she seems lovely."

"Right… I'd better… Yeah," Sirius says awkwardly, unsure what else to say. He offers Frank a quick nod before pulling away from him, head swimming.

He quickly finds his way to the snack bar. Maybe, if he keeps his mouth filled with food, no one else will try to talk to him about this mysterious woman who just happens to have a costume from the same series as his. He grabs a cupcake, plucking the plastic ghost topper from it, and takes a huge bite.

"So, you're the man they seem to think is my boyfriend…"

Sirius turns, mouth filled with the cupcake, frosting on his lips. The sight of her nearly makes him choke. She's lovely in that iconic blue and white dress. Though her hair is brown and curly instead of blonde and sleek, there's no denying that she's the mysterious Alice.

"Gueszo," he says around a mouthful of cake. He swallows it down quickly, cheeks flooding with color. "I mean… I guess so. I- I'm Sirius."

"Hermione. Nice costume."

"I can say the same for you," she laughs softly. "I've always loved _Alice in Wonderland._ "

"Me too. Obviously. I mean, if the costume didn't give it away."

He takes another bite of the cupcake, more careful now. It's always been important for him to not make a fool of himself in front of pretty girls.

"Still got a bit of frosting on your chin," she says, grabbing a napkin and dabbing it against his skin.

Sirius swallows dryly. The touch sends a jolt through his body, and his heart pounds rapidly. He's always considered himself a Casanova- cool and calm, the epitome of charm. How is it that this lovely stranger can make his head spin like this?

He clears his throat as Hermione tosses the dirty napkin into the bin. "So… Since everyone thinks we're here as a couple anyway, would you do me the honors of dancing with me?"

She considers for a moment, and his heart flutters. When she loses herself in thought, she really does remind him of Alice, that beautiful, clever dreamer. "My dear Hatter," she says, offering him her hand, "I would be delighted."


	3. Pretty Stepford

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, "Farmer Refuted" ("It's hard to listen to you with a straight face.")_

 _Granger Danger Event (_ New neighbors "Hi, I baked you some cookies." "Oh God, I'm falling in love with my new neighbor!")

 _Word Count: 929_

* * *

"Did I miss the part where we lived in Stepford?" Ginny asks.

Hermione pulls a tray from the oven, letting the warm, rich scent of her homemade cookies fill her nostrils. Her stomach growls, but she resists the urge. After all, these aren't for her. "I'm not very Stepford," she says, placing the tray on a cooling rack before pulling off her oven mitts and inspecting her apron for any traces of cookie dough.

Her roommate leans against the counter with a smirk, her eyes issuing a silent challenge. "Right. You're just baking cookies in the middle of the day for no reason. It's hard to listen to you with a straight face."

Hermione rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "There is a reason," she says. "Some of us actually noticed the moving van next door."

"Stepford," Ginny repeats in a sing-song voice that sounds annoyingly victorious as she pushes herself off the counter.

"Being a good neighbor," Hermione corrects.

Ginny shrugs walks over, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite before Hermione can protest. She smirks. "Whatever you say," she snorts before finishing the cookie off in a few quick bites.

…

With the platter of cookies in her hands, Hermione walks up the drive. Her lips twist into a bright smile, and she hesitates. Maybe Ginny is right. Maybe she wouldn't be out of place in Stepford.

With a sigh, she shakes her head, toning down the smile. The last thing she wants is to be _that neighbor_. The sort of neighbor that's far too bright and cheerful. The sort of neighbor who can drive you crazy with one quick greeting.

As she nears the moving van, she hears a bump and crash, followed immediately by a groan. A moment later, a man with shaggy black hair and gorgeous grey eyes climbs out, looking irritated. A second man hops out, a triumphant smirk on his scarred face.

"Told you, mate. You are terrible at packing."

"It's not too heavy! You're just… Shut up," the dark haired man grumbles. "I know how to- Oh!"

Hermione nearly drops the cookies at that sound. It takes a moment to realize the men have noticed her. She clears her throat, lifting the tray slightly. "Hello. I'm your neighbor," she says. "I'm Hermione, and I baked you some cookies."

The men glance at one another. "Remus. And this is my dear friend, Sirius," the taller man says, nudging the one with black hair. "My dear single friend, if you're interested."

"Remus!"

Hermione blushes. It hadn't been her intention, of course, but now that she's really looking at him… She clears her throat, forcing herself to focus. Remus is just teasing; he doesn't mean it.

"Well," Remus says, clapping his hands together, "I am about to collapse. Been at it all day. It's coffee time."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "I'm sure it is," he grumbles.

"So, I'll just leave you to it," he says, grabbing a cookie from the tray as he passes. "Mmm… Chocolate."

Sirius watches his friend walk away. After several moments, he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "Don't mind him," he says. "Remus never learned subtlety; bless him."

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it…"

"Oh, he did," Sirius chuckles. "Remus is in the habit of throwing me at any pretty girl he sees."

"So, he does that often?"

Sirius considers this for a moment. "Nope. You're the first," he says, grinning.

Hermione feels the heat flooding her cheeks. She wants to scowl. She is a grown woman; it's not fair that this complete stranger can reduce her to little more than a giddy schoolgirl. He really is too smooth. "I brought cookies."

Sirius nods. "Yeah, you've already mentioned that." There's a light, teasing tone in his voice. "I wouldn't mind sharing them with you."

"I'd like that."

Sirius takes the tray from her. She expects to be lead into the house, but he goes back to the moving van and sits. "I'd invite you in, but there's nothing inside yet. Just boxes," he tells her. "I hope you don't mind."

Hermione doesn't. She sits beside, taking a cookie and nibbling it, careful not to get any crumbs on her top. The two sit in silence for several minutes, and Hermione is surprised by how comfortable it is. There's no tension, no urge to nervously break the silence. Just company and cookies.

"Have you lived here long?" Sirius asks after the cookies are nearly gone.

"Since I was four," she answers.

He nods, grabbing another cookie. "I guess I know who to go to if I want to see the sights," he says.

Hermione blushes, butterflies tickling her insides. "Not many sights to see," she tells him. "It's pretty quiet here. Sort of boring, if I'm honest."

Sirius leans in, and her heart feels like it might leap out of her chest. "I'm sure we can find a way to change that," he says, a mischievous grin playing at his lips.

…

"You're humming," Ginny notes. "First cookies, now humming? Must be one hell of a new neighbor."

"He's…" Hermione considers. How can she describe Sirius when all she wants call him is _perfect_? "He's older. Funny. Gorgeous…"

"A silver fox?" Ginny offers, grinning.

"He's not that old! Maybe twenty years?" Hermione laughs. "We're invited to his house warming party Friday."

"Baking more cookies?" Ginny asks hopefully.

Hermione rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She walks past her roommate, chuckling to herself.

"It's a fair question!" Ginny calls. "Your boyfriend might want more cookies!"


	4. Could Have Been

_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Writing Club, Showtime, "Say No to This" (blackmail)_

 _Granger Danger Event (You're supposed to be in the witness protection system but until that's set up my cop friend is making me let you live with me)_

 _Word Count: 1653_

* * *

Hermione frowns when she hears the knock at the door. While eight o'clock isn't exactly late, it's not the most common hour to receive an unexpected guest. She lowers the heat on her stove, giving the homemade chicken noodle soup one last quick stir before making her way to the front door.

Detective Inspector Kingsley Shacklebolt offers her an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this, Hermione," he says. "I need a favor."

As a law student, she's often had to turn to her dear friend in law enforcement for help. This, however, is definitely the first time the roles have been reversed. Regardless, Kingsley has been such a tremendous help during her studies that she can't deny him anything.

"What is it?" she asks, tucking her frizzy curls behind her ear.

Kingsley looks over his shoulder; Hermione follows his gaze and realizes the detective didn't come along. Hermione can't quite make out the man's features, only his dark hair. She wonders what on earth Scotland Yard is up to.

"That's Sirius Black," he says quietly.

Hermione nods, eyes widening. She's heard of the great scandal the Blacks have caused. Blackmailing members of Parliament and, if rumors to be believed, even the royal family. Using their money and influence to bribe various foreign ambassadors. Of course, all this only recently came to light. An inside source had exposed the family, and now Hermione realizes who the inside source is.

"His family's influence stretches a bit too far. We're in the process of relocating him, creating a new identity for him. Until then, we need someone to keep him, and I doubt anyone would think to look here."

Hermione purses her lips. She's always been the responsible one, but this is a greater responsibility than anything she's ever faced. She wants to tell Kingsley that it's too much, but her heart won't let her. How can she turn away someone who needs her help?

"How long?"

"A week at the most."

She nods. "Okay."

…

Sirius Black is nothing like his family. He doesn't throw his money and power around. Maybe he's a bit arrogant, but he's quite pleasant to be around.

"I wasn't expecting company," she tells him, filling his bowl with soup. "I'm sure this isn't the sort of thing you're used to."

He offers her a radiant smile. "I can't remember the last time I've had a home cooked meal," he says. "It's always takeaway or ridiculously posh restaurants. Apparently leather jackets aren't appropriate attire there."

She sits across from him at the table, studying him. He's easy on the eyes, and she finds it hard not to stare.

"This is delicious," he tells her; she beams.

"I my know house isn't much," she says. "But there's a guest bedroom that's pretty comfortable, and-"

"Do you always worry this much?"

A faint warmth creeps into her cheeks. She quickly drops her gaze to her soup, swirling the broth absently with her spoon. "Yes," she admits.

"I have a friend like that," he chuckles. "Remus. Lovely bloke, but he's such a mother hen sometimes."

Her blush deepens. In school, she had played that role with her best friends, always keeping Harry and Ron straight, making sure their homework was done, trying her hardest to keep them out of trouble.

"Don't worry so much," he tells her, and she slowly lifts her gaze back to his. "It makes your life easier."

Hermione laughs. "I'm on holiday from university," she says. "And I still find myself stressing over everything. Even holidays are spent trying to keep everything perfect."

"Nothing wrong with a little imperfection."

She rolls her eyes. It's easy for him to say. Even if he is different from his family, he is still a Black. He is gorgeous, rich, intelligent… Perfect. Try as she might, she can't find anything imperfect about him, and, if she's honest, it's a bit intimidating.

When she finishes her soup, she rises to her feet and carries the dishes to the sink. She turns on the water and grabs the dish soap when Sirius says, "I can do the dishes."

"You're my guest."

She hears one last slurp, and a moment later he's at he side, gently nudging her away from the sink. "I've never done chores before," he says. "Let me. Please."

Hermione shrugs. She hasn't had anyone help her with chores since she'd left her parents' home. Though she's always been raised to cater to her guests, she can't bring herself to deny his request. He sounds so sincere, and it's probably the last time she'll have anyone so eager to help. "Fine. You wash. I'll dry."

…

She wakes the next morning and grabs her clothes, yawning. Her mind is still heavy from sleepiness. A good, long shower will fix that.

As she approaches the bathroom, Sirius steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist. Hermione doesn't have time to process this. She walks right into him, the force of their collision causing the towel to fall from his hips and pool on the floor at his feet.

With a yelp, she leaps back, pointedly keeping her eyes fixed upon the ceiling. "Oh God. I am so sorry!"

"You're probably the first woman to see me naked that didn't gawk," Sirius laughs. "I'm actually sort of offended."

She can't deny that the temptation is there. He is handsome. But he is only temporary. Before the week is out, he'll be gone, and there's no use letting lust cloud her actions.

"You can look now. All covered."

Hermione slowly pulls her attention back to him, not daring to lower her eyes beyond his shoulders. Her face floods with so much heat that she's certain she must look like a tomato now.

"I saved you some hot water," he tells her.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

As she walks into the bathroom, Sirius adds, "By the way, I wouldn't have minded if you'd looked."

She shuts the door and checks her reflection. Sure enough, her cheeks are a rich scarlet, and she finds herself laughing to herself.

…

It takes another three days for Kingsley to call her.

"Everything is nearly set up," he tells her.

"Good to hear."

She watches Sirius as he stands by the stove, throwing whatever he can find into the pan. Hermione feels a tug in her heart. It's only been a few days, but she's grown fond of him. More than fond, if she's honest. She's developed feelings for him, even though she knows that she shouldn't look at him like that, even though she knows he'll be gone soon.

"Hermione? Hermione?"

The voice in her ear drags her out of her thoughts. She realizes she's still on the line with Kingsley. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked how everything was going."

"Everything is fine. Pretty close to perfect, actually," she assures him. "I have to go. I don't think Sirius has ever used a stove before."

She ends the call and hurries over to the older man just as the eye of the stove catches fire. "Shit!" Sirius cries. "Mayday! Mayday!"

Hermione grabs the baking soda, quickly dumping it onto the flames. Though her heart beats rapidly in her chest, she laughs. "Maybe I should order a pizza."

…

They eat their pizza outside on a picnic blanket. The stars in the sky shine so brightly, and everything feels so calm.

"I'm just sorry I can't take you on a real date," Sirius says suddenly.

Hermione nearly drops her slice of pizza but quickly recovers. She picks off a mushroom and nibbles it, turning his words over in her mind. _Date._ He hasn't shown any real interest in her. Well, maybe he has. She had simply assumed the flirting had just been out of habit. Now, she isn't so sure.

"Downside of not being able to leave the house until I have a new life to live."

She feels her heart break at that. She doesn't love him. She hasn't had time to truly get to know him like. But she cares deeply for him, and she knows they could be great together if they only had more time.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," she says quietly.

His hand finds hers, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Me too. I don't think I'll ever find another woman like you, Hermione."

She rests her head on his shoulder, ignoring the weight in her chest. She wishes this didn't feel like such a final moment.

…

"Come with me," Sirius says when Hermione joins him for breakfast.

"What?"

"If we're together, they can give you a new identity too. What do you say?"

Hermione swallows dryly. She would love a chance to see what their future could hold.

But she knows she can't. She's always been so careful and calculated. The risks she's taken have always been considered thoroughly. This is far too impulsive. It would mean leaving behind everything and everyone she loves. She could never see her family again or Harry and Ron.

Hermione shakes her head. "I wish I could."

The hopeful expression fades. Sirius' lips draw into a thin line, and he nods. "Should have figured," he says softly.

…

Six days. Sirius Black is in her life for only six days, and they're the best days Hermione can ever remember having.

Kingsley shows up to collect Sirius, and Hermione feels that uncomfortable weight in her chest again. "Sirius…"

He turns, offering her a crooked grin. "Remember, don't stress so much, Hermione," he says, kissing her cheek. "You'll be happier."

She smiles at that. "Be safe," she tells him. "Have a good life."

"It'll be the best life because it featured you, if only for a moment."

And as Kingsley leads Sirius away, Hermione feels her heart sinking to her chest. Somehow, she knows that she's watching her future, her brilliant _what could have been_ walk away.


	5. Muse

_Yule Ball: Write a meet cute._

 _Amber's Attic, the Moon: Write about someone finding inspiration_

 _Jingle Bells: "Winter Wonderland/Don't Worry, Be Happy", write about someone being an inspiration._

 _Word Count: 609_

* * *

"I need a favor," Dean admits.

Hermione's lips quirk into a faint smile. Of course. Dean has always been more of an acquaintance than a friend, so she should have known there would be a catch whenever he'd asked her to meet for coffee. "What sort of favor?"

"I volunteer and offer art lessons for free," he explains. "We're moving on to drawing people, and I need a model."

Hermione hesitates. While she's never taken an art class beyond the silly finger painting lessons of primary school, she's seen enough films to be wary. Too many films featured a nude model standing before a group while they sketched her.

As though he can read her mind, Dean quickly adds, "There's nothing dodgy; don't worry. I just need you to show up, sit in the group, and let people sketch you."

"With my clothes on?"

"Of course. I'll buy you a coffee after."

Hermione chuckles softly and shrugs. "What time should I be there?"

…

Hermione feels nervous when she takes her seat in the middle of the room. No one looks at her strangely, but this is still outside her comfort zone; she's always preferred to stay out of the spotlight and remain in the background.

Dean offers her an encouraging smile before introducing her to the group. Hermione awkwardly adjusts her posture, unsure how to sit. Dean doesn't have any criticism for her relaxed pose, so she assumes it's good enough.

"Good start," Dean tells someone, and Hermione turns her attention that way.

The man looks to be about ten years older than she is. His piercing grey eyes study her as he moves the pencil over the page. Hermione can't seem to look away. There's something captivating about his messy bun and crooked smile; she almost feels like he should be the one on display. He is quite handsome, and, though she doesn't know the first thing about art, she finds herself wanting to sketch him.

His eyes meet hers, and she quickly drops her gaze, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks. She's certain she hears him chuckle under his breath, and the heat in her face only intensifies.

…

As she starts for her car, she feels someone tap her shoulder. When she turns, she finds herself face to face with the dark haired, grey eyed Adonis. "Didn't mean to startle you," he says, offering her that crooked grin that makes her insides feel like jelly. "I, uh, I wanted to show you my sketch."

She accepts the sketchbook, and a small gasp escapes her lips. The woman sketched onto the page is more beautiful than anything Hermione has ever seen. Everything she's ever felt insecure about— her mess of bushy hair and buck teeth— somehow look glorious when sketched by his hand.

"I was going to have this be my last class," he admits. "I wasn't feeling particularly inspired until today."

"What changed?"

"I think I found my muse."

Hermione swallows dryly as she lifts her gaze back to the young man. A small smile tugs at her lips. "You're quite talented," she tells him. "I think you should keep up the lessons."

"I would like to draw you again," he says. "Maybe we could have a picnic in the park?"

"You don't even know me…"

He offers her his hand. "Sirius Black."

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Hermione Granger, about that picnic?" he says.

"I'd like that."

…

"I hate to ask," Dean says, "but could you model for my class again?"

Now, Hermione doesn't hesitate. She thinks of Sirius with his pencil and pad, sketching her into some sort of goddess. "I'll be there."


	6. Eyes on the Road

_Meet Cute Marathon: I was watching that hot jogger while driving out of the neighbourhood but got distracted and crashed but i just woke up in a hospital room and said hot jogger is at my bedside because apparently they're the one who called the ambulance_

 _Disney Challenge, The Sultan: hypnotized, short, happy_

 _Showtime, "Wonderful": balloons_

 _Buttons: neck_

 _A Year in Entertainment, song: "Don't try to fight this feeling"_

 _Word Count: 631_

* * *

Sirius has never been a distracted driver. He may pride himself on being a lovable goofball who can't stay serious for longer than five minutes, but driving is the one thing that always has his undivided attention. He has a damn near perfect driving record, minus a small fender bender during his teen years.

And yet, his eyes wander when he passes a jogger. There's something about her messy curls, thrown into a high ponytail, and the way her slender body moves so rhythmically that makes him feel hypnotized; he can't seem to look away.

All it takes is a split second. He knows this; he's more than aware of this. And yet he allows himself to get distracted. His foot is a little too heavy on the pedal, and the car lurches forward.

The rest is little more than squealing of tires, a metallic _clang_ , and then darkness.

…

Sirius groans. His eyes open for a fraction of a second, and a laugh escapes his lips. He must be dead, and the pretty jogger is his angel sent to help him cross over. Why else would she be here now?

Still laughing, he closes his eyes, and the darkness takes hold once again.

…

"Fuck," he murmurs, sitting up.

Sirius blinks rapidly. Sterile white walls. Sickening clean scent mixed with the undeniable smell of sickness. That damn _beep, beep, beep_ of monitors. So, he's not dead. Just in the hospital.

He turns his head, hissing at the white hot pain that shoots through his body.

"Careful," an unfamiliar voice cautions. "The doctors say you did a number on your neck. No lasting damage, but I suspect it will be stiff for quite a while."

With immense difficulty, he manages to turn. The jogger sits in a chair near the door, holding a bundle of balloons that read _Get Well Soon_.

"Why are you here? Did you get hurt too?"

The second he asks it, he realizes exactly how stupid the question sounds. If she had been hurt, she would be in a room, not sitting there with him, bringing him balloons.

"I called the ambulance," she explains. "Thought I'd come with you and make sure you're okay."

Sirius feels his cheeks heat with color. "You really didn't have to…"

He doesn't know if she can hear the guilt in his voice. Does she know exactly why he ended up wrecking his car? If she does, and she still helped him out… Well, she's as kind as she is beautiful.

"Of course I did. I'm dying to know."

"Know what?"

A smirk plays at her lips. "Did you enjoy the view?"

Fuck. So she does know. Sirius decides to not let it bother him. Lucky for him, acting carefree is second nature to him. "It was a nice view," he assures her.

She rolls her eyes and climbs to her feet, crossing the short distance between them. "Enjoy the balloons," she says.

When she turns to walk away, Sirius catches her gently by the wrist. "Wait! Come on. We have a connection," he says. "Don't fight this feeling!"

She tugs out of his loose grip, and he expects her to keep going. Instead, she returns her attention to him. Her arms are folded over her chest, brows raised. "What feeling is that?"

"Obviously fate brought us together. And you know rhymes with fate? Date. Which means we should definitely go on one."

Her lips purse. She's clearly trying not to laugh. After several seconds, she gives, sputtering out a chuckle. "Not exactly the most sound logic."

"But it's still logic. I'm Sirius."

"Hermione."

"Well, Hermione? What do you say? A date would make me a very happy man."

"One date," she agrees. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

" _I'm_ driving," she says.


	7. Pick Up

_Meet Cute Marathon: I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time I'm your barista_

 _Serpent Day, cascabel: scarf_

 _Scavenger Hunt: Hermione as a main character_

 _Showtime, "No Good Deed": attention_

 _Buttons: spoon, official_

 _Liza's Loves, Salty Dog: Sirius Black_

 _Word Count: 488_

* * *

Hermione is still laughing over the latest little note scrawled on her coffee cup when she meets up with Ginny at the library across the street. "What's so funny?" her best friend asks.

Hermione sets the cup down. "The bloke across the street always does this."

"'I'm not a photographer, but I can picture you and me together.'," Ginny reads. "Which barista?"

"Black hair, messy bun, grey eyes."

"Sirius! He's a laugh."

Hermione nods. He must have a good sense of humor if he writes ridiculous pickup lines on everyone's cups. She wonders if he makes good tips from it. "You know him then? What does he write on yours?"

"Um… Just my name," Ginny answers.

Hermione tips her head to the side in confusion. It doesn't make sense. Why would he go through the trouble of writing pickup lines on only her coffee cups?

As though Ginny can read her thoughts, she says, "It's official. The award for most oblivious genius goes to you!" The passing librarian shushes them angrily, and Ginny rolls her eyes but lowers her voice. "Why else would he give you this kind of attention Hermione?"

Hermione wants to mention tips, but it doesn't add up. He has never written these silly lines on Ginny's cups, and now Hermione thinks that if she looks into it, no one else will have a story about the cute barista at Madam Puddifoot's who makes them blush with his messy scrawl of pickup lines.

"Oh." Hermione climbs to her feet, adjusting her scarf.

"Did you forget to order a scone?" Ginny teases.

Without bothering to answer, Hermione rushes from the library and across the street. She takes a deep breath, wondering why she's doing this. She should just leave it alone and be done with it. Just because he's flirting with her doesn't mean he actually wants to date her.

But what if he does? Hermione has spent so much time keeping her head down, trying to get the best grades and advance herself. Has she really allowed herself to be this oblivious? What if she misses out on a chance for love?

The coffee shop is mostly empty when she finally summons the courage to enter. The barista Ginny had called Sirius stands behind the counter, absently spooning sugar into his cup before stirring it and taking a sip.

"I heard your name is Sirius," she says, coming to a stop in front of the till.

"It is." He offers her the most dazzling grin she's ever seen, and Hermione almost loses her nerve. God, how is it humanly possible for anyone to be that bloody attractive?

"Makes sense," she says. "Because you are Sirius-ly cute."

It sounds awful. Her cheeks burn, and she wants to make her way out of there as quickly as possible. Sirius chuckles, though, and pushes a napkin and pen toward her. "I lost my number. Can I have yours?"


	8. Book of Dates

Meet Cute Marathon: I work at the library, and you continuously ask me to help you find books on the most random topics; are you on some kind of quest?

Showtime, The Wizard and I: quirk

Buttons: "Can you help me?", fruit

Word Count: 553

* * *

"Can you help me?"

Hermione feels her curiosity stir the moment she hears that familiar voice. Sure enough, she she glances up, she finds herself looking at the handsome dark haired man who has been frequenting the library more and more lately. He's always been an amusing patron. Most people ask for books by a specific author or a certain genre; he asks for the strangest things. Hermione doesn't know if it's just a quirk, if he genuinely has hundreds of bizarre interests, or of he's on some strange quest.

"What can I do for you today?" she asks, setting her own book aside and offering him a soft smile.

"Dates."

"Beg pardon?"

"Dates. You know, the fruit?" he explains. "I need a book about them."

Hermione skillfully disguises her laugh as a cough. This isn't even the strangest thing he's come in for. Three days ago, he'd come in looking for information on mining salt in the Himalayas, and the day before that, it had been a book on lion taming (a book the library did not have). "That would be in the agriculture section, I believe," she says, climbing to her feet and guiding him along until they reach the right section.

"Can you help me find one that definitely has dates in it?" he asks.

Hermione wants to say no. Even if the library is slow today, she still has things to tend to. But he offers her the sweetest smile, and she feels weak. It isn't fair. She doesn't even know him; his smile should not make her melt like that. "I'm sure Irma can hold down the front for a bit," she says.

His grey eyes twinkle, and he offers her a thumbs up. "Best librarian ever," he assures her, and she doesn't know why she's blushing.

It takes about ten minutes and twelve books before she finally finds one with an article about dates. When she finally finds it, she breathes a sigh of relief. As much as she loves books, these are terribly boring. In the back of her mind, she wonders why on earth there are so many books dedicated to fruits.

"Well, now that we've found the book on dates, what do you say?" he asks, grinning as he accepts the book.

"About what?"

"An actual date? With me?" His grin falters slightly when she doesn't respond. "I worked hard on that line. It's funny."

Hermione shrugs. "If you say so."

"I'm serious. I mean. I'm Sirius. That's my name. But I'm also serious about the date," he says.

It all starts to click in her head now. The ridiculous books he's looked for, his constant presence in the library, the way he only seems to come to her for assistance. It's a bit strange, but maybe it's a little flattering too. "Do we have to eat dates?"

"Only if you want to."

"I don't."

Sirius chuckles. "Good. Dinner and a movie when you get off later?"

He really moves fast. Hermione adjusts her cardigan, considering. After several seconds, she shakes her head. "Dinner and coffee. Movies are never as good as books."

"Nerd," he teases before heading up to the counter with his book.

Hermione follows behind. "You really want to check that out?"

"Yup. It's the book that got me a date. Very important."


	9. Coffee, Not Brains

Meet Cute Marathon: I was unaware that there was an organised zombie crawl going on and I didn't realise you were in a costume. I screamed in your face because I truly thought I was facing a zombie invasion

Showtime, "No One Mourns the Wicked": "Take it away."

Hedgehog Day: Write about someone cute but is quite prickly or dangerous

Lyric Alley: I'm a little bit scared

T.V. Show, Temperance: book, partaking in some sort of self defense, Marlene McKinnon

Liza's Loves, Spring Fever: Write about spring break

Word Count: 674

* * *

"Be careful," her mother cautions. "Glenda said there's been some commotion going on in the city."

Hermione offers her mother a warm smile, shaking her head. Ms. Glenda is sweet, but she always seems to think the sky is falling, and the end is near. By now, she's grown up hearing some crazy doom and gloom story at least three times a week. "I'm just going out for coffee," she assures her. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Her mother purses her lips but shrugs. Hermione is an adult. Even if she's staying with her parents while on spring break from university, she's an adult, and they let her figure things out on her own. "Be safe, okay?"

Hermione kisses her mother's cheek. "I always am."

…

The city is strangely quiet. Hermione usually doesn't mind silence, but it's abnormal now. There's always some hustle and bustle going on, but now… Silence.

She adjusts her cardigan nervously, looking around. Why are the streets so empty?

"Turning into Ms. Glenda," she mutters to herself, shaking her head and tucking her book under her arm. She's being ridiculous. A simple stroll to get coffee and read a good book in a peaceful cafe shouldn't be this stressful. "Stop it."

As she turns the corner, she sees the first person she's seen since leaving the house. Or, rather, what used to be a human.

Hermione doesn't care for movies, especially not scary ones, but zombies are so ingrained in modern culture that she would recognize one anywhere. Green, decaying skin, peeling away and dangling. Dark hair, matted with dirty. Hollow eyes.

She does the only thing she can do. Screaming her head off, she grips her book, grateful she chose a hardback and not a paperback, and slings it, hitting the undead creature in the jaw.

He cries out, and Hermione jumps back. From what she's seen of zombie movies, zombies don't feel pain, and they definitely swear. The one in front of her, however, swears so fluently that a sailor would blush.

"Oh… My God," Hermione gasps. "You're not dead!"

He rubs his jaw, and the green fades away, leaving a streak of flesh in its wake. "Last I checked, definitely not. It's a zombie crawl. Did you miss the notice?"

"I, er… I just got back into town for spring break this morning," she explains.

The not zombie laughs, shaking his head. "You're welcome to join me," he offers before gesturing to the book in her hand. "You know zombies are really into brains." He winks.

Before she can answer, another woman hurries over, also dressed in full zombie gear. "Did you really just hit my friend with a book?" she demands. "You okay, Sirius?"

"Fine, Marlene," Sirius answers, scowling before offering Hermione an apologetic smile. "I was just seeing if… Sorry, I didn't catch your name…"

"Hermione."

"I was seeing if Hermione wanted to join me for the crawl," Sirius says.

The one called Marlene relaxes, but she still looks at Hermione through narrowed eyes. Hermione feels her cheeks burn. It's not her fault she's been away for so long and doesn't know what's going on in town anymore.

"Sorry," she says. "I don't think I would blend in too well. I was on my way to grab a coffee anyway."

"Well, I can walk with you."

Hermione considers. She had been looking forward to a relaxing night of coffee and a good book. Sirius had been on his way to whatever the hell a zombie crawl is. It seems awfully inconvenient. Still, after hitting him with her book, the least she could do is buy him an apology drink. "If you're sure you don't mind," she says.

"Tell James I'm going to be a bit late, Mar." He turns to Hermione, grinning. "Take it away, oh fearless leader."

Hermione smiles is she continues along with Sirius at her side. "Sorry I hit you."

"Sorry I scared you."

"Will a coffee make us even?" she asks.

He grins. "Only if I get your number afterward."


	10. Okay One Day

Serpent Day, Trinket snake: button

Insane House Competition: "No matter how strong a girl is, she has a weak point. And sometimes, all she needs is a hug."

Showtime, "Finale": wicked

Book Club, Ralph: Kingsley Shacklebolt, tools, veteran

Meet Cute Marathon: "I came to check out this support group but things have kind of been majorly sucking lately and you were there and i didn't even know anything was wrong but we've known each other for months what gives" (more of a support group!au than a meet cute, but just go with it)

Word Count: 807

* * *

Sirius doesn't look up from his motorbike when he hears the approaching footsteps. "Hand me the wrench, will you?"

He hears Kingsley's deep, reassuring chuckle. "You know I don't what any of those tools are," he says. "I know a hammer and nails; that's all."

Sirius chuckles and glances at Kingsley and offers him a small grin before reaching into his tool box with his grease-slick hand. "What can I do for you, old friend?" he asks. "The last time a Minister for Magic came to visit me, I was still in Azkaban."

Kingsley doesn't laugh or even crack a smile. Sirius shrugs. Life as the Minister must be weighing on him. Poor bugger.

"I'm here because Andromeda is worried about you," Kingsley answers. "And she's not the only one."

Sirius turns his attention back to the bike. He already knows, of course. Everyone wants to talk to him, to ask how he's doing. He's the only one of the Marauders left. He's breaking down. But he doesn't want to talk about it with anyone. It's still too hard to for his thoughts into words.

"There's a group that's meeting three times a week," Kingsley tells him. "It's my creation, and one I'm quite proud of. Just a reminder that you aren't alone."

Sirius scowls. Not alone. It's almost laughable. Until the battle at Hogwarts two months ago, most of the people going to Kingsley's little support believed him to be a murderer. They may all be a bunch of veterans who have overcome the same horror, but he isn't quite ready to let them get close. Some wounds won't be healing any time soon.

"Not a fan," Kingsley guesses, exhaling deeply. "Muggles have support groups too, you know. Maybe you could try that."

Sirius doesn't respond. He keeps his attention on his bike, taking extra care as he makes adjustments here and there.

"Sirius…"

"I'll think about it, Kingsley. Good enough?"

The other man sighs. "I guess it will have to be."

…

Sirius doesn't really want to be here. He only comes so he can tell Kingsley that he tried. Maybe the Muggle group will be easier. Really, he doesn't even have to speak. He can just sit back and watch.

There are chairs grouped together in a circle, but Sirius doesn't take one. He leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest and fidgeting with a button on his leather jacket. It isn't enough of a distraction, but it keeps his mind busy.

"Jean, good to see you!"

"Sorry I'm late."

Sirius looks up at the familiar voice. Jean. Hermione Jean Granger takes a seat. He frowns. From what he's seen, Hermione has been surprisingly okay since the war. As okay as any of them can be, at least.

She looks up, and their eyes meet. A soft blush creeps into her cheeks. Sirius offers her an apologetic smile. Now he feels like he's intruding on something intimate. He's grateful when an older man stands and says, "Okay, let's begin."

…

When the meeting is over, Sirius does bother to linger. Others stay to talk and enjoy snacks, but his only thought is that he wants to get the hell out of there. He makes onto the street, looking around for somewhere he can hide long enough to disappear.

"Sirius!" Hermione catches up to him, gripping his arm. "You… I wasn't expecting to see anyone I knew here."

"Neither was I," he admits. "I figured everyone would be at the Ministry's group. Harry goes."

Her blush returns, deeper now. "I know. I just… I didn't want to be around people I knew. It's so hard talking about the war, and I just…" She trails off, letting out a choked sob.

Sirius does the only thing he knows to do. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close. She buries her head in his chest, and he strokes her curls, making soft shushing noises. "Come on," he says. "I think you might need s drink."

…

He doesn't know exactly how it happens. One moment, they're enjoying a drink and talking. Then everything changes. She clings to him again, and her lips find his.

Sirius knows it isn't an ideal situation. He's old enough to be her father; hell, he is her best friend's godfather.

But he kisses her back. It's the only thing that seems to combat the loneliness, and it's the first time he's felt whole in years.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, pulling away. "You must think I'm so ridiculous. I just… I'm losing my mind, and I don't know to do."

Sirius kisses her again, holding her close. "No," he says. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

He's finally starting to believe it. Judging by the soft smile she offers him, he thinks that maybe she believes too.


	11. In a Flash

_Book Club, Mother Abigail: going into exile, Albus Dumbledore, survive_

 _Showtime, "Defying Gravity": "Think of what we could do together."_

 _Buttons: "Days Go By"- The Offspring, toothbrush_

 _Liza's Loves, Four Horsemen: word set- war, famine, death, conquest_

 _Serpent Day, California king snake: superhero!au_

 _Meet Cute Marathon: Person A is a superhero and is in love with their superhero partner/sidekick/nemesis, Person B_

 _Word Count: 930_

* * *

" _All your anger, all your hurt, don't matter in the end."_

* * *

Sirius drops the toothbrush in the sink when he hears the noise in the house. He spits out the thick, minty foam before rinsing his mouth quickly and patting his face dry. "Whoever is out there, you have roughly ten seconds to leave before I kick your ass!" he calls.

Beyond the door, he hears a familiar chuckle. "Now that's something I would like to see."

Sirius scowls, angrily slinging the towel to the ground. When he opens the door, he's unsurprised to find Albus Dumbledore, the great Silver Phoenix, standing in the hallway. "Fuck off," Sirius says flatly.

"Is this your solution?" Albus asks, gesturing around at the untidy apartment. "Go into exile, keep your head down, and let the Death Eaters destroy the city?"

"The last time I took on a Death Eater, the Order was appalled by my methods."

He grimaces at the memory. Sirius had never killed a man before. It is one of the Order's most sacred rules— "Our goal is to rehabilitate the misguided." But when he'd come face to face with Antonin Dolohov, the Doll Maker, who had killed Sirius' sidekick… All Sirius could see was Remus' neck snapped and the strings stitched into his lifeless limbs; he had been made into a morbid marionette. How could Sirius have just let him live? The monster deserved what he got.

"You can't change the past," Albus says kindly. "You can only work to make a better future and learn from your mistakes. War is on the horizon, Sirius. We need our Dog Star."

"And I need my sidekick."

It sounds ridiculous. Sirius is a powerful hero, and he can easily do what needs to be done on his own. Remus' death proved why he shouldn't be left alone. He had enjoyed that conquest a little too much. The adrenaline in his veins had been so addictive. He would have killed them all if Albus hadn't intervened.

"We've had a bit of a famine where new recruits are concerned," the older man says. "But there's one you might like. She reminds me a bit of Remus."

"No."

"Think about it. We _need_ you. The Death Eaters aren't letting up. We've lost so many."

Sirius winces. He may have gone into exile, but he's been keeping up with news in the city.

Marlene McKinnon, Diamond Girl with skin that could withstand bullets. Someone found a way to get through her defenses and poison her.

Benjy Fenwick, known simply as Gentle Ben with his healing hands. In the end, he couldn't heal the bullet wound to his head.

The list goes on and on. Some of the strongest people he's had the fortune of knowing couldn't survive. Acidic guilt burns his stomach. It isn't fair that he is still alive.

"We need you," Albus says again.

"I'll meet her."

…

Hermione Granger is like nothing he's ever seen before. At first glance, she looks so plain, but there's something breathtaking about her soft brown curls and clever eyes.

"It's an honor to meet you," she says, a soft pink creeping into her cheeks. "You're actually the reason I chose to use my powers for good."

"You're… You're a kid."

He feels the air change immediately. It feels heavy, and his hair stands on end. Sirius notices the sparks dance over her fair skin.

"I'm twenty-five," she says darkly.

Sirius holds his hands up defensively. "Okay, okay. What do they call you."

"Lightning Strike," she answers.

Sirius grins. She's cute, and she's dangerous. He has a feeling this could be a very interesting partnership.

…

Sirius realizes he's in love the first time he sees Hermione in action. She is fast and precise, and she sends a Death Eater to his knees with a single touch.

"Not bad," Sirius says, his claws retracting. "But I didn't get to have any fun."

Hermione offers him a dazzling smile. "Sorry, but I'm fast as lighting," she says.

…

Balance slowly begins to shift. Fewer heroes die; more villains are locked away.

"Glad to have you back," James, the Stag, says, grinning. "I missed you."

"All thanks to Lightning Strike."

…

"Look out!"

Sirius hears Hermione's warning. The masked woman known as Belladonna, sends a poison dart at him. It lodges in his chest, and Sirius falls to his knees. He pulls the dart out, but it's too late. The wound is green, and he can feel the poison spreading through his body, like fire in his veins.

"No!"

It all happens in a flash. There's a burst of light, and Belladonna falls, incapacitated. Hermione is at his side, ripping his shirt to examine the wound better.

"Not exactly how I imagined it when I pictured you taking off my shirt," he says weakly.

"We can get you a medic," Hermione says, ignoring his comment. "It… You'll be okay."

"I'm dying," he says.

She shakes her head, her curls whipping against her face. "No, you can't. Think of what we could do together. Sirius…"

He reaches up, guiding her closer. If he has to die, at least he gets to see something beautiful before that great sleep comes. "Don't do what I did," he whispers. "Don't let your anger consume you."

"I won't. I promise I won't."

It hurts, but he lifts his head so that their lips meet in a quick kiss before he falls back. He can feel the world falling away, but he smiles. He is at peace.

* * *

" _Those days go by, and we all start again."_


	12. Inked

Meet Cute Marathon: "you drunkenly paid to get a tattoo at my parlor and didn't want to lose the money but the day has come and I have to hold your hand while someone else tattoos you"

Word Count: 922

* * *

In the five years since opening Black Dog Tattoo Studio, Sirius has seen his fair share of reckless and spur of the moment decisions. So, when a girl comes in, staggering slightly, he isn't surprised. Sirius sighs and prepares his usual lecture about how he definitely cannot tattoo someone who is drunk.

"I want one tattoo," she says. "Just the one."

Sirius glances at his brother and business partner. Regulus just shrugs.

"Figured as much if you're in here…"

"Ron says I would be too scared to get a tattoo," she says. "He bet me fifteen quid that I wouldn't."

Sirius doesn't know who the hell Ron is, but he hopes the bloke learns not to make bets while pissed. The young woman might not be able to get her tattoo tonight, but she seems determined. Maybe it's just the alcohol.

"I'm afraid I can't tattoo you since you've been drinking," he says before looking at his brother. He's never been in this situation before. "Are we allowed to at least make appointments?"

His little brother offers him another shrug. "Not illegal. Just frowned upon, I think."

"Fair." Sirius turns his attention back to the woman. "If you'd like, I can draw up a design, get your down payment, and set up an appointment."

"I don't want you to do the tattoo." She points at Regulus. "I want him."

Sirius raises a brow. That's definitely a first. Regulus has a loyal enough following, but Sirius has become well known in the world of body art. He wonders if he should feel offended. "You want my brother to tattoo you?" Sirius asks, just to be sure he's following correctly.

The young woman nods. "I want him to do the tattoo, and I want you to hold my hand."

Sirius' brows knit together in confusion. Well. That's definitely a first.

…

"She was cute," Regulus says when the young woman, Hermione, is gone. "I'm surprised you didn't make a move. She was interested."

"And she was drunk," Sirius points out. "I may be a lot of things, but scumbag isn't one of them."

He wonders if she'll still want him to hold her hand when she's sober.

…

Two days later, Sirius dials the woman's number. "Hermione Granger?"

"Speaking."

"This is Sirius Black from Black Dog Tattoo Studio," he explains.

She groans. "That wasn't a dream."

"It wasn't. Your appointment is scheduled for two o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and I wanted to confirm that you would be here. Down payments are nonrefundable."

He winces when he says it, feeling guilty. Admittedly, if she backs out, he'll make an exception. Scheduling an appointment while she was intoxicated wasn't the most professional thing.

"What did I ask for?"

Sirius shuffles through the portfolio until he finds the sketch his brother had drawn up. "An Alice in Wonderland piece. Alice standing atop a stack of books."

"Thank God drunk me has good taste," she mutters. "I'll be there."

"Do you still want me to hold your hand?"

"I really said that? Oh God…"

"I'll be happy to do it," he assures her.

…

"I'm so sorry about the other night," Hermione says as she takes a seat.

Regulus begins to prepare her leg. She yelps and shudders as he smears the cold gel over her bare skin.

"I'm a lightweight when it comes to drinking," she continues. "But my best friend is getting married. Celebrations happened…"

Sirius shrugs. She really doesn't have to explain. He's done his fair share of ridiculous things after having a few too many drinks. It's just a simple fact of life that no one bothers to tell you about.

At the buzz of the tattoo machine, Hermione takes his hand. Sirius smiles to himself. He can't help but notice how soft her skin is. And she smells nice. And…

He shakes his head. She's a client; he needs to stay focused.

She inhales sharply as the needle connects with her skin. "Oh. That's not as bad as I thought."

"The tattoo itself doesn't hurt like people think it does. It's the healing that sucks," he assures her. "Especially if your asshole friends think it's a good idea to smack the fresh tattoo."

"Didn't you knock James' tooth out for that?" Regulus asks, his grey eyes hyper focused as he guides the needle carefully along the outline.

"I didn't knock it out. James is a bigger drama queen than I am."

His brother snorts. "No one is a bigger drama queen than you, Sirius."

Sirius scowls. The least Regulus can do is try to make him sound somewhat impressive for Hermione. Jerk.

…

"Thank you for holding my hand," Hermione says as Sirius hands her the slip of paper with aftercare instructions.

"It was my pleasure."

"I would like to take you to dinner," she adds. "As a way of saying thank you."

That's definitely a first. Sirius is usually the one asking people out and offering to buy them dinner. Hermione Granger is a strange woman, but he sort of likes it.

"That's really not necessary."

"I insist," she says. "Please?"

Sirius shrugs. How can he say no? "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

She grins. "Excellent. Eight sound good?"

"Perfect."

When she leaves, Regulus grins at him. "Would you look at that. Her taste in men is just as awful sober as it is drunk."

Sirius throws a pen at him, still smiling like a maniac. Hermione is an interesting woman, and now he gets the pleasure of trying to figure her out.


	13. Power of the Selfie

Meet Cute Marathon: You're a celebrity who just broke up, and I tweeted you a selfie with the caption "date me" as a joke, and you thought I was serious.

Showtime, "Dancing Through Life": "It's clear we deserve each other."

World Bartender Day: Write about Aberforth Dumbledore

Word Count: 1121

* * *

"Look at that," Ginny says, tapping the screen of her laptop.

Hermione glances up, unsurprised to find Ginny on Twitter. Her best friend is on the verge of needing social media addiction therapy. Hermione follows the the tip of Ginny's finger and gasps.

"'Bad boy heartthrob and lead guitarist of the London rock band, The Marauders, Sirius Black, has broken up with his partner, Marlene McKinnon'," Hermione reads aloud. "Shame. They were so cute together."

"I really liked her in that movie with Natalie Portman," Ginny mutters before turning and offering Hermione a bright smile. "But you know what that means?"

"What?"

"He's single and you have a chance."

Hermione rolls her eyes. It's like they're kids again, giggling and dreaming of which boy band member they'll marry one day. But they aren't kids. She's twenty-three, and she knows that celebrities don't just fall in love with average, everyday people. Maybe in ridiculous romance novels, but there's a reason Hermione chooses not to read that sort of thing.

"Right. If I have a chance, I'm the Queen of England."

Giggling, Ginny leans forward in an awkward bow. "May I see your phone, Your Majesty?" she asks.

Hermione raises her brows, suspicious. "Why?"

"Please?" Ginny gives her that annoying puppy dog look. Ron had warned her once to be wary of it. There's something about that look that will make even the most stubborn people give in.

"Fine."

She hands over her phone and returns her attention to her book. Ginny giggles, her fingers dancing rapidly across Hermione's screen, and it's hard for Hermione to focus. "What are you doing?"

Ginny hands the phone back. "You're welcome."

Hermione looks. Ginny has her Twitter pulled up, and… "Oh. Oh no."

seriouslysirius date me?

She supposes she should be grateful that the selfie Ginny has attached is a good one. Still, her cheeks burn as she looks at her best friend. "Gin…"

Her phone vibrates, and her jaw drops. He's replied.

grangerdanger when are you free?

"Gin!"

This doesn't happen in real life. Ever. Hermione stares at the screen, unsure how to respond.

seriouslysirius started following you.

"Holy shit," Ginny says. "It worked! Think you can set me up with the singer's son? Harry Potter is fit."

"He just slid into my DM," Hermione says.

I see you're in London. I'll be there this weekend if you'd like to have dinner. There's this little pub I like. Abe makes sure no one bothers me when I'm there, so it'll be just us.

"Say yes! Oh em gee! Say yes!" Ginny squeals.

Hermione swallows dryly. This is so wild. She's always admired him, but he's a celebrity. She doesn't have a chance. So why is he messaging her.

Where and what time?

This is really happening. She keeps following his link, and by now she's checked fifteen times that this is, in fact, his verified profile.

Hog's Head, 6pm Saturday? Ask Aberforth for me when you get there.

She smiles.

See you there.

…

"I heard the good news," Aberforth says when Sirius arrives at the pub half an hour early.

"You're on Twitter?" Sirius asks, eyebrows quirked in amusement.

"Not that it's any of your business," the white haired bartender huffs, but his blue eyes twinkle with mischief, and Sirius knows not to listen. "Getting a date on Twitter… Good grief, what has the world come to?"

"It's clear we deserve each other," Sirius says. "She's gorgeous. I'm gorgeous."

"You said Marlene was gorgeous too."

The younger man waves a dismissive hand. "Completely beside the point."

"No," the bartender counters. "That's exactly the point. Make sure you got yourself someone with more to offer than a pretty face, mate. Less regret in the long run."

Sirius shrugs. "I'll be at my usual table."

"Of course you will."

…

"Excuse me? Are you Aberforth?"

The man behind the bar looks up. He smiles at her like he recognizes her, and Hermione feels the blush staining her cheeks. Quite a few people saw the tweet, and she's had to deal with complete strangers stopping her on the street and bombarding her with questions.

"I am," he says. "Sirius is expecting you."

He leads her along. Hermione takes a deep breath before asking, "Do you know him well?"

"Well enough. He's been coming here for years."

"What's he like? I mean… What's he really like?"

The media paints him as some sort of carefree rebel who doesn't care about anyone but himself. Hermione has to believe there's more to him. After all, reporters tend to be pretty biased. They'll twist anything if it makes them a profit.

"Honestly? He's one of the best people I've had the pleasure of meeting," Aberforth answers. "Don't let the tabloids paint a bad picture of him for you."

"I… No, of course not!"

He leads her to a private room. Sirius Black sits at the table, offering her the most perfect, dazzling grin she has ever seen.

"I'll leave this with you," Aberforth says, setting the menu down at Hermione's side of the table. "Already know what he's going to want."

"Abe, you make me feel so special," Sirius says, blowing the bartender a kiss.

Aberforth rolls his eyes. "I'll be back."

When they're alone, Hermione finally properly looks at Sirius. It's definitely him. She's spent enough time fangirling over album covers to recognize that messy dark hair and those piercing grey eyes. This is really happening; it's not some insane dream.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she says.

"Sirius Black."

"I know." Hermione glances down at the menu. "What would you recommend?"

"Mushroom swiss burger, hands down," Sirius says. "Or the bacon chili cheese monster burger if you're feeling daring. Aberforth makes the best chips with them."

It amazes Hermione how easily she relaxes around him. She's always had a hard time making friends, but there's something about Sirius that calms her down. Her anxiety seems to go to sleep, and she can just be herself. "I think I'm feeling daring. That sounds amazing."

Sirius grins. "I love a woman who isn't afraid to eat."

…

Sirius is still grinning when he returns to the pub after seeing Hermione into a taxi.

"Well?" Aberforth asks, raising his brows.

"I'm not one to kiss and tell."

"Since when?"

Sirius snorts. "Fine. She didn't kiss me," he admit, almost grudgingly. "But I have another date tomorrow with her. And she's coming to our show in Liverpool next week. And she's amazing."

He hasn't felt this way with anyone. Even Marlene, in the year that they dared, never made him feel so giddy and excited.

Finding true love on Twitter may not be conventional, but Sirius has never been a conventional man, so it works.


	14. Eternally Flirting

_Meet Cute Marathon: A was fatally wounded and suddenly finds themself looking down at their own lifeless body in confusion. B is a reaper and offers A guidance... but A doesn't want to do the whole 'follow the light' rubbish. A wants to flirt with the cute reaper_

 _Word Count: 571_

* * *

Sirius groans as he sits up. Everything is a blur. He remembers flirting with the cute girl at the bar… Her boyfriend hadn't liked that. He'd… He'd…

Sirius shakes his head. Flashes of movement and pain flicker across his vision, but he can't make sense of it. Was he stabbed? He tugs at his shirt. Nope. No wounds or…

"Fuck."

His feet aren't on the ground. What is on the ground, however, is his body. Sirius blinks in confusion, smoothing a hand over his dark hair.

Near death experience. That's what they call this. He'll just pop back into his body, and…

"It won't work."

He turns to the source of the noise. A young woman with curly brunette hair stands before him, a sympathetic smile on her lips. Sirius stares with raised brows. Could she actually know what he was thinking? More importantly…

"You can see me?"

"Of course I can," she says. "I'm the reaper assigned to take you to the afterlife. Hermione Granger, at your service." She offers him a polite bow. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions."

"Hell yeah, I do. Are all reapers as hot as you?"

His question seems to catch her off guard. She takes a step back, tipping her head to the side. "I've been doing this job for four hundred years," she says flatly, "and you are the first who has flirted with me."

Sirius grins. The initial shock of being dead has faded, and he feels a bit more like himself again. "Well, apparently death turned those other souls into idiots," he says, offering her his most charming smile and moving closer. "Only a fool would miss the opportunity to flirt with you."

He doesn't know if reapers can blush. He assumes not since her creamy skin remains the same tone. Pity. She'd be adorable if she blushed.

"Now, you're probably wondering what comes next, and—"

"Actually, I was wondering if you would hold my hand." He offers her a wink. "I don't want to get lost."

The reaper groans and smacks her palm lightly against her face. When she lowers it, her eyes are narrowed with frustration. "If you didn't feel the need to flirt with everything that moved, you wouldn't be dead right now."

Sirius holds his hand over his heart in mock offense. His lips poke out in a pitiful pout. "I don't flirt with _everything_ that moves!" he insists. "Only the cute ones."

"Right. Well, you're going to the afterlife, and—"

"Can I at least get your name?"

"Hermione."

He's surprised she actually answers. More surprising, she says it with a smile. Maybe she isn't so uptight after all.

"Now, take my hand, and I'll lead you to your final destination."

The reality takes hold now. He's dead. He's actually dead. Sirius has never been a fan of religion, and knowing there's an afterlife is terrifying. But her hand is extended to him, and he can't help but feel a wave of serenity wash over him. He accepts her hand with a smile.

"Can I find you again in the afterlife?" he asks.

She's still smiling. At least reapers aren't immune to his charm. "Souls have a way of finding one another if they're meant to."

It doesn't sound particularly promising, but Sirius will take it. If he has to, he will spend an eternity searching for the reaper with curly hair and a beautiful smile.


	15. Change of Plans

_Meet Cute Marathon: Although A normally goes to the cafe on Thursday evenings, A's sibling (or close friend) had called in tears, and s/he had been forced to miss it. So instead A goes the next evening, sitting down at a table with a fresh cup of tea, and then abruptly realised that Friday night was Speed Dating night as B slides into the chair opposite and says, "They say you and I only have five minutes, but I can tell we're going to need longer."_

 _Insane House Competition: "Want an out of this world experience?"_

 _Word Count: 954_

* * *

Hermione is halfway to the cafe when her phone rings. She frowns when she sees the number. If Ginny is calling her, it must be important; she usually only texts.

"Hey, Gin."

"Can you come over?" Ginny asks, her words tight and trembling. "I need to talk to someone."

'What's going on?"

"It's Harry."

Hermione's frown deepens. Harry is one of her best friends, and she always worries about him since he's in law enforcement.

She can see the cafe up ahead. Maybe it's silly, but she's tempted to turn Ginny down. Thursdays are her relaxing days; she has been going to the cafe religiously every Thursday for the past year.

But Ginny needs her. "I'll be there in five," she says.

…

As it turns out, it isn't the end of the world. Harry's phone was off, and Ginny panicked when he didn't call her after work.

"I'm so sorry," Ginny groans. "I feel like an idiot."

"You're not," Hermione assures her, checking her watch. The cafe will be closed soon.

"I know you usually do your cafe day today," the younger woman says. "Fuck. I'm sorry. Here, let me fix you a cuppa."

"Two sugars."

…

Being at the cafe on a Friday feels strange. The place is unusually crowded, and Hermione feels out of place. She orders her usual tea, debating as she receives the cup. It isn't her quiet, safe haven that it usually is. Her schedule has already been shifted, and she feels off kilter.

With a shrug, she moves through the crowd. At least her usual table hasn't been taken. That's one thing that's gone right tonight.

She's only been in her seat for a minute when a man sits down. He looks to be about twenty years older or so, but he's gorgeous with his dark, messy bun and storm cloud grey eyes. Hermione studies him for a moment, confused. She's never had anyone just join her.

He watches her before offering her an appreciative smile. "They only give us five minutes for this," he tells her, "but I can already tell we need longer."

"Five… minutes?" she asks, looking around.

She notices it now. Everyone is seated with someone else. A sign announces that it's the cafe's first ever speed dating night.

"Oh."

This is definitely not what she was expecting. Coming here on different day is strange enough, but speed dating?

She wants to tell him that there's a mistake. She doesn't have any desire to meet anyone. But she can't bring herself to say it. There's something about that smile that makes her heart melt.

"Sirius Black," he says. "I love motorbikes, long walks on the beach, and beautiful women. And men…"

"Hermione Granger," she replies. "I like tea, books, and quiet evenings at home."

"Quiet," he snorts. "Where's the fun in that?"

Hermione feels color heat her cheeks. What gives him the right to say the things she likes aren't fun?

"Want an out of this world experience?" he asks before she can tell him off. "Come with me."

Hermione hesitates. It's not the most reassuring way of asking her if she wants to get out of there, and her mind races. What if he's a dealer? That would be just her luck.

"Nothing funny," he assures her quickly, as though he can read her thoughts. He chuckles. "Sorry. Just realized how it sounded."

"It's okay," she mutters, looking around.

It's almost been five minutes. If she stays, Sirius will leave, and someone else will take his place. Hermione isn't in the mood to have to talk to a bunch of strangers tonight. She already wants to leave, but does she want to leave with him?

After several moments of silence, she finally shrugs. She's always lived in her little bubble of rules and order. Everything has to be perfect and tidy. Why shouldn't she live a little and take a chance. "Lead the way," she says, offering him a smile.

…

She doesn't know what she expected, but it isn't this. Hermione climbs off the motorbike, trying to get her balance.

"First time?" Sirius chuckles.

"Yes."

He wraps an arm around her to offer support. Hermione can't help but notice how warm and comforting his touch is.

"I told you I like long walks on the beach," he says. "Especially at night when there's no one around. It's peaceful."

"I thought quiet evenings were boring," she teases.

He offers her a grin, his skin glowing in the milky moonlight. "Boring but peaceful," he amends.

Sirius is right. It really is an out of this world experience. The beach is often crowded, but it's just the two of them tonight; it almost feels like she's stepped into an alternate reality. It's the same beach she, Harry, and Ron played on in their youth, but it's different now. There is no chatter from tourists and locals. There is only the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

"Well?"

"It's beautiful."

"Very beautiful."

When Hermione looks up, she realizes Sirius is looking at her, not at the sea. She blushes, praying it's too dark for him to notice.

This isn't the sort of thing she usually does. She should be home by now, getting ready for bed. Instead, she's out here with a man she barely knows, and she's blushing like an idiot.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks.

Hermione doesn't trust herself to speak. She knows her voice will come out nervous and shrill. Instead, she nods mutely.

His lips find hers, and she smiles into the kiss. It's amazing that only moments ago, she was so worried about her routine. Now, that melts away, and she knows she's made the right choice.


	16. Small World

_Meet Cute Marathon: A's parents have been pestering them with the same old thing for years: "why haven't you found someone yet?" Not wanting to spend another aggravating family dinner with the family alone, A calls up a friend and tells the friend that they needs a date to take to dinner. As a result, the friend sends an acquaintance, B, to pretend to be a loving partner of six months._

 _Word Count: 1010_

* * *

"I need a boyfriend."

Harry and Ron exchange baffled looks, and Hermione groans, quickly adding, "Not like. My family is having a reunion, and I am sick of always being asked when I'm going to settle down. You would think having a promising career in law would be enough, but no! 'Hermione, when are you going to find a good man?' is all I hear!"

She takes several deep breaths. Until this moment, she hasn't realized exactly how upset it makes her. She offers her friend an apologetic smile.

"Dean?" Harry asks.

"Nah, mate," Ron says. "Haven't you been on Facebook? He and Seamus made it official."

"Official? I didn't know it was unofficial," Harry mutters. "Damn. He was the only one I could think of."

Hermione sighs. There has to be someone. Preferably a single someone so she doesn't have to awkwardly ask to borrow anyone's boyfriend.

"My godfather is in town," Harry says. "He isn't seeing anyone."

Her lips twist into a frown. "Isn't your godfather, well… Isn't he like forty?" she asks.

Harry shrugs. "I don't know anyone else."

It isn't ideal. Hermione can already imagine the judgmental looks her relatives will give her. Still, if it's all they've got, she'll have to make do. "Can you call him?"

"Of course. I've got you, Hermione."

…

Sirius Black is a good looking man. There's no denying it. Hermione bites the inside of her cheek as he hops off the motorbike and makes his way over to her.

"Hermione?"

"You must be Sirius," she says with a soft smile.

"That's me! Harry has told me a lot about you."

She raises her brows, curious. Harry hasn't really told her much about him. All she knows is that he's basically the cool uncle with his leather jackets and motorbike, the type that's always off on some big adventures.

"You look nervous," he notes. "Need a massage? I'm good with my hands."

She doesn't know why she blushes at that. She turns away quickly, hoping he doesn't notice, but she can see him grinning out of the corner of her eye. "I'm… I'm fine," she mutters. "Let's just get this over with."

She had hoped for a chance to get their stories straight. If anyone presses a little too much, she hopes he'll go with whatever she comes up with. A flutter tickles her insides. She has always been such a confident woman, but she feels like a tangle of nerves now. Sirius takes her hand, and it's somehow enough to make her feel like the world won't fall away. "Thank you," she whispers.

"I promise, it's my pleasure," he murmurs.

It seems like a strange phrase. What could be so pleasurable about having to accompany a complete stranger to a family dinner? A grin tugs at her lips. Sirius Black is a strange man.

…

"Oh, Hermione! Good to see you again!" her cousin Cassie says, grinning. "Who's this?"

"My boyfriend, Sirius."

Her cousin purses her lips, and Hermione tenses. Can Cassie see through her lie? God, she hopes not. Dinner hasn't even started; it's too soon for their cover to be blown.

Cassie shrugs. "Whatever floats your boat."

It goes like that for a while. Most of her relatives stare at them in confusion, and Hermione can see the judgment in her eyes. She tries not to take it to heart, but it hurts. No one but her parents seem to care about her career and social life. Now that she's finally brought a date to dinner, the atmosphere is tense. She really can't win.

"So, Sirius, how did you meet our Hermy?" Nana Granger asks, and Hermione blushes at the ridiculous nickname. What grown woman would want to be called _Hermy_?

She also feels a flicker of panic. So far, no one has bothered speaking to Sirius. She had assumed they would direct any questions her way. Whatever Harry has told him about her, she hopes it's enough for him to spin a convincing lie.

"I was out for lunch. I own Black Bike Customs—"

"Really?" Uncle Lawrence interjects. "I've been in a few times. Been thinking about splurging on a bike for my birthday."

Aunt Vicky rolls her eyes and smacks her husband's arm playfully. "I keep trying to tell him he's too old for a midlife crisis," she laughs.

Sirius grins, and Hermione feels her heart melt a little bit. "Anyway, she was on her break too. There's this little cafe up the street from her law office, which I happen to frequent."

Hermione's brows knit together. It's all true. She doesn't understand why Harry would mention her favorite cafe to Sirius.

"She ordered a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and I just… I couldn't help but notice how cute she looked when she took a sip. She closed her eyes, and her nose scrunched up. I knew I wanted to talk to her."

Hermione stares at Sirius, trying to keep the surprise out of her features. Once again, it's true. She knows Harry couldn't have told him those things. As much as she loves her best friend, he's ridiculously oblivious sometimes.

"The rest is history," Sirius concludes, taking Hermione by the hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

…

"You didn't make that up," Hermione says quietly as Sirius walks her to her car after dinner.

He grins. "I didn't," he confirms. "I didn't know who you were then, of course. Even when Harry was telling me about you, it didn't click. But then I saw you, and—" He chuckles. "Of all the gin joints, ya know? I wanted to ask you out on a date, but well… Random stranger approaching… I get it."

Hermione smiles, unable to believe how small the world is. "I guess we're lucky to have Harry then."

"Are we?" he asks, grinning. "Does that mean I get to take you out on a proper date after this?"

"I believe it does," she laughs.

Sirius leans in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "I'm looking forward to it."


	17. Fifty Shades of Embarrassing

_Meet Cute Marathon: A is rolling into the station of a brand new town, feeling nervous about not knowing anyone or where they should be going next - and just as A steps off the train, their bag catches on something and rips open! Contents spill everywhere. B notices and stops a (somewhat embarrassing) item from rolling onto the tracks and hands it over to A with a questioning look._

 _Word Count: 556_

* * *

 _Everything is going to be okay._ It becomes almost like a mantra in Sirius' head as the train pulls into the station.

Everything is going to be okay because he has a fun weekend ahead of him.

Everything is going to be okay because Marlene didn't completely shatter his heart, and a moment away from London will be good for him.

Everything is going to be okay because he is Sirius Black, and he is the king of okay.

But as the train finally comes to a complete stop and passengers begin to file out, he feels suddenly nervous and a lot less okay than before. Sirius takes a deep breath. Sitting on the train won't do anything to help, so he'd better move.

His day becomes infinitely less okay when he bag snags. Sirius can't see what it's caught on, but he tugs it fiercely, hoping to free it. Instead, he hears an ominous _rip_ followed by the noisy clatter of his belongings skidding along from the force of his pull.

"Shit!" he calls, and the bag finally comes loose; he's thrown back and staggers, barely managing to keep his balance.

His cheeks burn as he realizes his things are strewn about the station, and he's made a fool of himself. Luckily, no one seems to notice; if they do, they don't bother to stop and lend him a band or even laugh at him.

Except…

"This nearly went on the tracks," a young woman with messy brown curls says, holding up a book and studying him with raised brows and amusement in her eyes.

Christ.

"I thought I'd save it since it was a book," she continues. "If I'd realized it was that _Fifty Shades_ rubbish, I wouldn't have bothered."

Sirius grabs the book, his blush deepening. "What are you talking about?" he asks as he tucks it into his destroyed bag and begins to pick up the rest of his things. "It's a good trilogy!"

That's an exaggeration. James had given him to book for Christmas as a laugh, and it's become a guilty pleasure. So bad it's good. Well, not good.

The woman snorts, kneeling and helping him gather the last few things. "I've read better smut on fanfiction sites." She seems to realize what she's said; her cheeks glow an adorable shade of scarlet, and she pointedly looks down, refusing to meet his gaze. "I mean… Not _me_. But I've heard… Anyway! Those books are an offense to the literary world."

Sirius can't help but grin. She's cute when she blushes, and if she's this passionate about books, he assumes she's smart. What more could a man want? "Well, I'm only in town for the weekend," he says. "Maybe I could buy you a coffee and let you show me something good from the literary world? My name is Sirius."

"Hermione," she says with a small smile. "Are you asking me out on a book buying date?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"Not at all. There's a coffee shop in town. Just the one. I'll meet you there tomorrow at noon."

"It's a date."

He manages to awkwardly close his bag and keep the contents from spilling out again. Grinning, he walks off, whistling a cheerful little tune.

Everything is going to be okay because he has a date with a cute, smart woman.


	18. Romance: a Hangover Cure

_Philosophy, task three: Write about someone facing the consequences of overindulgence_

 _Disney, Spoonful of Sugar: Write about someone seeing the good in something bad_

 _Crafty Corner, cast on: Write about two people meeting for the first time_

 _Auction: coffee shop!au_

 _Word Count: 827_

* * *

Sirius hates himself when he wakes up. His head throbs, and his stomach twists itself into painful knots. Within seconds, he's bolting, nearly knocking an equally groggy James out of the way in his hurry to reach the bathroom. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him before kneeling at the toilet.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks as acidic vomit snakes his way up his throat.

Every weekend, he tries to tell himself that he's going to take things slow. At twenty-eight, his wild days of endless partying are behind him, and he _knows_ he shouldn't try to drink like he's got a shiny, new liver.

And yet, every weekend, he does the exact same thing. He and James always swear they're going to have a pint and call it an evening. It doesn't take long before the pint turns into shot after shot of burning liquor.

He misses his youth, a time when recovering from of overindulgence had been easy. Now, he feels like he might die as he flushes the toilet and makes his way to the sink. He doesn't want to look at his reflection, but he forces himself to.

His grey eyes are bloodshot, and his dark hair is a mess of tangles. There's no denying it: Sirius Black, who has always been a teensy bit on the vain side, looks as shitty as he feels.

With a groan, he turns on the faucet, cupping his hands beneath the flow of cold water and splashing it onto his face. After repeating this several times and brushing out his knotted hair, Sirius looks slightly more alive, but it isn't quite enough. He has a job to get to, and his mind still feels so sluggish and hazy.

"If I ever try to drink again, please punch me," Sirius says as he leaves the bathroom and passes James in the hallway.

"Like that'll work," his roommate muses.

Sirius shrugs. He already knows it won't do any good, but it's just another part of the ritual. Swearing off alcohol always makes him feel a little better as his body decides to punish him after a wild night.

He grabs his leather jacket and slips it on. He has to feel better soon.

…

The coffee shop is a nightmare. It's a little too crowded, and even the soft chatter makes Sirius' head feel like it might explode. When he reaches the barista, everything seems to get worse.

"Coffee," he says.

"How would you like it?"

"Coffee…"

It takes several seconds of the teenage girl staring at him like he's a complete idiot for him to realize his mistake. His cheeks burn as a blush stains them. "Black," he corrects. "I'd like it black."

The barista nods and rings him up, trying to make small talk as he digs through his pockets for the crumpled up bills. "Keep the change," Sirius mutters, wanting to avoid any more unnecessary chatter.

He accepts his coffee and starts for the door, his head still pounding and the robust fragrance of his drink filling his nostrils. Sirius doesn't know what happens. Maybe he's still a little shaky from his hangover, or maybe he's just a little claustrophobic right now. Whatever the reason, he loses his grip on his coffee, and the hot liquid spills, splashing his pant leg.

"Here, let me help," someone says as Sirius bends down to grab the now empty cup.

Whipped cream and frozen coffee that smells heavily of caramel land on Sirius' hand as the young woman reaches down with a handful of napkins. "I'm so sorry!" she gasps, jerking back when she realizes she's lost her coffee as well.

Sirius looks up, and the world seems to brighten for a moment. The fact that the beginning of his day has been horrible no longer matters when he sees the woman who has tried to help. She is lovely with her wild curls and tan cardigan. "It's okay," he assures her. "At least you drink frozen coffee."

She smiles at that, and it makes her look even more beautiful somehow.

"Let me buy you another coffee, Miss…?"

"No _Miss_ , please. Hermione. It's just Hermione."

He offers her his most dazzling smile, relishing the way she blushes the softest pink. "Well, Just Hermione, I would like to buy you a coffee since you spilled yours while coming to my rescue."

"You really don't have to," she says.

"I _want_ to. Just like I want to take you out to dinner tonight to thank you," he insists. "I'm Sirius, by the way."

"You sound serious," Hermione chuckles. "I accept."

"No. Sirius. S-I-R-I-U-S. My name."

And as they make their way back to the counter to try their luck at ordering a second time, Sirius thinks that maybe drinking isn't terrible. After all, if not for his hangover, he wouldn't have been in this coffee shop at the same time as Hermione.

But he _will_ slow down on the drinking.

Maybe.


End file.
